The Curse of the nine Coins
by JauntyJack
Summary: Some say, it was luck, that William Turner was saved by Elizabeth Swann. Some say, it was luck, that Elizabeth Swann was saved by Jack Sparrow. Some say, it was luck, that Jack Sparrow was saved by Will Turner. But it wasn't just luck. It was destiny.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Again it was dark.

Again it was cold.

Again he sat here, motionless. Only the trinkets in his hair were glittering in the twilight. From outside, the moon threw his wan light into the prison cell.

Port Royal's dungeon. He felt almost homlike here - abstained from the fact, that he was spending his last hours in this bloody hole!

His beaded hair jingled, when he suddenly turned his head. Through the barred window he stared up to the moon, which looked back at him like a huge golden eye. The last moon he was allowed to see. He of all people, Captain Jack Sparrow, was going to be executed in the next morning. This night would be long ... and by far too short.

His hand was flitting to his head, touching the little coin on the red bandana.

The best pirate of the caribbean would end up on the scrapheap as all the other hangdogs ...

_He'd seen it often. He wasn't counting it anymore. Every month reams of outlaws fell victim to the hangman. The malodorous dead bodies were stacked on carts by the executioner's assistant, who removed them without the slightest dignity._

_When he was ten years old, Captain Teague showed him the corpses that were flaunted near the port. They were put up in the bay to warn off the pirates, but Teague didn't give a damn on that!_

_The only trump of the East Indies was corruption, he said. The Pirate Code was older and stronger than their law. And as long as the brethren court would exist, the loyalty between all kind of outlaws would be warranted._

_Since the old sailor had saved him from drowning, he gained Jack's confidence. By and by he became fatherlike for him. It was Teague, from whom he learned pilfering and cheating. It was Teague who taught him fighting with a baton and how to handle a sword. Later the captain hired an italian fenching master, in order to make his style perfect. And now, as he WAS a perfect pirate, he would finish his life like the perfect loser ..._

Jack felt himself wretched. He was downright devastated!

„The worst pirate he has ever seen ..." Embittered he muttered Commodore Norrington's words to himself.

The dark-haired man leaned back against the bars he was kept behind. The coin on his kerchief was banging against one of the rods.

Jack listened into the dark. A gentle melody was sounding in the air. A melody he had already heard ... a long time ago ...

_The seas be ours and by the powers ..._

„Where we will, we'll roam", Jack spoke the lyrics under his breath.

He recognized it.

And he remembered.

This song was resonanced by all pieces of eight, whenever a pirate was in need - or the piracy itself ...


	2. Jack

**Jack**

_On this hot summer day, he roamed aimlessly the streets of Port Royal. He didn't know what to do, so he decided to counteract the boredom by lining one's pockets. In this case the "Ones" were the idle rich - promenaders who only took their walk due to their own weariness. The whole day was a slackness in every way. It wasn't just hot, it was sweltering heat! Even the market place was unenlivened, the merchants were sluggish and in a bad temper._

_The only business panning out was those of the tavern keepers. It was the third day running without the merest hint of a breeze. And it was the second day that Teague and his crew spent by playing cards and flushing away their blahs with rum._

_While he kicked a stone across the ground, Jack took off his hat, fanning some wind in his face. The air was sticky, and he discerned an offensive smell in it. A stomach-churning stench, attesting to death. Decay scent._

_The boy paused for a moment. It gave him the creeps - he had nearly missed where he stood. The alleyway he passed was right behind the execution place! There, over the wall, a rout of hapless pirates were hanged a few hours ago. Jack shuddered. Uneasy he swallowed, then he drew cautiously near the wall. On tiptoe he peeked beyond its edge. But all he could see was the crossbeam of the gallow's frame. Although he was already twelve years old, Jack was kind of lank for his age. He couldn't rise high enough to spot more. _

_A short glance along the street showed him the answer to his problem. Briskly he ran to a rain barrel, and with less effort it was overthrown. After rolling it back to the wall, Jack climbed up the cask._

_He looked out for everything. If there had been corpses or skeletons, no matter what ... Yet not for -_

_Nothing. _

_Nothing except for this smell of dead bodies, lingered in the heated air. The court was literally extinct. Only a oblong platform, beams and the ropes waving in the wind ..._

_But the tang still hung over the place. _

This was weird!

_Like spellbound, Jack stared at the flittering ropes._

He felt no airflow on his skin.

_Jack licked his forefinger, then kept up his hand. _

Not a whiff of a breeze.

_Just heat, sweat and smell. The boy stepped forward, to get granular on this thing. Once he stood at the wall, a unforeseen gust streamed his felted hair. Jack was petrified with horror. Every single hair on his arms stood on end. Though the heat he sensed a sudden cold all around. Rather deadness than cold ..._

_There was no sign of life in the whole quadrangle. _

_There were no corpses, but he could scent them. _

_There was no wind, but the ropes were moving. There was no sign of life - however, Jack felt not alone. Heedful he looked about. Neither townsmen nor navy soldiers were at the face. Breathing deeply, the lad worked up all his courage. He jumped down from the wall._

_Inside the court, the air was muggier than in the streets. It was so sticky and foul, he could hardly breathe. Jack almost had to puke in disgust, when he entered the platform. Close to his head, the becket swayed slightly back and forth. At the thought of ending his life at these gallows one day, the pirate boy felt a bit choked by now. Again the wind stroke through his hair and he shivered._

All that wasn't just a bit fishy. It was ... spooky.

_Jack felt observed. He felt certain of not beeing alone!_

_Again he took a look-around, as a silver twinkle catched his eye._

_He looked down. It was a small coin, blinking in front of his feet. Jack picked it up. A silver piece to the amount of eight. Even though the coin had lain in the midday sun, it was cold as if there hadn't been a sunrise for days ..._

_Aghast he dropped it. The coin fell strumming on the platform. But its sound wasn't any noise - it was a melody._

_A song, eldritch and beautiful at the same time ... A song, he listened often to when his father and other crewmen were singing it ..._

_Jack's heart was in his mouth. With sweaty fingers he grabbed the coin. That followed he turned and stampeded from the gallow's place._

„_Dad! DAD!" The boy yelled so loud, that the cabin watchman scared up from his rum-boozed dreams._

„_The Captain's busy!" he gruntet crabby at the agitated child._

„_But I have to -" _

„_I said he is busy, aye? Come later again."_

„_But I found -" Exited Jack waved about. _

„_Jack!!! Are you deaf?"_

„_Wha'is he doing? Bootlegging rum?"_

„_Pack off, cub!"_

_"Pack off, doter!" A barefaced grin appeared on Jacks lips. Smartly he eluded the boot thrown towards him. He sat down on the top step of the staircase, waiting for the familiar snoring. Shortly after the watchman was dozed off again, the boy sneaked in his father's cabin._

_Captain Teague had not even to look for the marplot barging in. Studying several sea cards and taking notes, he spoke to Jack. _

„_You're a little mischief, boy. Cain got the order to let no one in, didn't he?" _

„_Aye, he told me."_

„_Is he drunk?" _

„_Rum-soaked ..." _

„_That explains why the rum's always gone ..."_

_Jack smirked. „Are ya sure you're not drunk?" _

_The old pirate bobbed his head. "Do I look the part?" _

„_Well, there's a slack for days and you're trying to chart the course ..." _

„_And you're looking as if you'd seen a ghost. What's the pitch, Jackie?"_

„_I found something ... interesting." He reached for the piece of silver in his trouser pocket. „An old coin or so ..."_

„_Show it to me!" Teague beckoned him. After receiving the coin from Jack's hand, the Captain eyed it up accurately._

„_Ah ... I see. That's not only an old silver coin." He smiled mysterious. „That's a piece of eight."_

_Jack didn't catch on it. „So what?"_

„_A piece of eight from the brethren court, boy! One of all nine, savvy?!"_

„_Oh, come off it!" Jack restrained laughter. „D'ya think I still believe in those cock-and-bull stories? Yourself told me that the brethren court was stony-broke at that time!"_

„_And why did you panic a minute ago?"_

„_I ... er ..."_

_Teague sneered at his stuttering. „And where did you get that?"_

_The lad cleared his throat._

„_At the gallows", he mumbled. Thereupon he felt the palm of his father thumping his head._

„_Are you nuts, boy?! No pirate ever goes there voluntary! What if there'd been guards of the navy?"_

„_Dad, there wasn't a soul -" he halted a second. „At least none I could see ..." Jack grated his head. „But I felt something ... Someone..."_

_A long silence followed his words. Teague's look was still rebuking, but his face was also thoughtfully. Slowly he rose to speak._

„_It could be that a moribund pirate lord changed his junk to this, because he hadn't a chance to name someone as his successor. So the coin searched its new owner by itself, as the curse demands it. Whatever you felt", he said finally, „it led you to this coin. You heard a certain song, right?"_

_Without a word, his son nodded._

„_That is the curse of Davy Jones." The pirate carried on. „When he was the king of all buccaneers, Jones and his men found a way how to banish the goddess Calypso - well, you know the song. Anyway, before they bound the goddess into a human body, they used her power to put a spell on their coins, or whatever they had. This curse effected, that whenever piracy's in danger, all real pieces of eight are calling each other, to bring together all pirate lords by this certain song. And your coin, Jackie ...", he flipped the coin towards him, „... is not just a real piece of eight. Above all it's a heirloom from a hanged pirate lord. Maybe you were led to the coin by his restless soul ... and maybe there's a reason for that. But I want you NEVER to reenter this place! Savvy, Jack?"_

„_Aye, sir ..." The boy looked astonished at the silver piece in his hand._

„_You ought to keep it ... as I keep the code." His father threw a wink at him. „And now be off on deck, lad! Up in the braces, they've to be heeled!"_

_With a big grin, Jack hurried upstairs. Now the coin in his pocket was silent. It should stay silent for many years ..._


	3. Will

**Will**

_It was a rainy day, plashy and foggy - and boring. A typical London-day, but a special one for the small boy, who peered hopefully through the window. His astute brown eyes followed the raindrops, running down the pane in endless little rivulets. Anew the noise of a horse-drawn carriage sounded through the drumming of the rain. The child's glance now looked over the street, observing the approaching coach. Barely the vessel had stopped, the boy jumped down the sill._

_"Mummy! Is he there?! Did he come?!" All excited, William Jr. ran to meet his mother at the door. Sarah Turner, a handsome young lady in her early twenties, spread out her arms and picked up her son. Nosy, Will looked over her shoulder._

_"Where is he, mummy?"_

_"Willy -" He freezed as he perceived the seriousness in his mother's voice. Enquiring he gazed in her eyes._

_"He's at sea. He couldn't come ..."_

_"But he promised!" Will shouted in frustration._

_"Listen, darling, you know he's very dutiful, and his ship had to cast off earlier as planned." Consoling his mother fondled his chin-length dark hair. The boy squirmed out of her embracement._

_"That's unfair! He promised!" In defiance, Will folded his arms, staring at the bottom. "He gave a promise ..."_

_Touched by the disappointment and sadness her son could scarcely hide, Sarah Turner stroked over his cheek. It was little Willam's fifth birthday today, and again his father Bootstrap Bill had no other gift as a letter ... Like the other_ _preceding letters, full of promises he couldn't keep. _

A bloody pirate, masking his true fate behind this lie to be a merchant seaman.

_Again, Sarah eyed up her little boy. He was still fighting back his tears._

Brave little boy. Like his father, except this one fact ...

_Bill had been nervous during their farewell, as if he dreaded of beeing spotted with her ..._

_Anyhow, his lie had the use of sheltering Will. Not only to keep the dreams about his honourable father alive, mainly due to the danger that he was the only son of a famous pirate. It would be better to keep the truth in private, until he was old enough to hear it ... and to defend himself at the worst._

_"He left a letter for you."_

_Slowly he lifted his head._

_"He wrote to us?"_

_"No ... This time, only for you, Will." Cocking his head, the boy viewed the envelope his mother just now pulled out of her skirt pocket. There, in big black calligraphy, Bill had written his name on the white paper: _Happy Birthday WILL.

_Afresh the child was filled with curiosity and anticipation. With a happy smile on his face, Will snatched at the letter. His eyes sparkled expectantly, while he opened the envelope. A little rustle, followed by a delighted yelp -_

_"WOW, Mum - I got legit gold! Look, it's a locket!"_

_Astonished, Sarah picked the gold coin, that was applied to an also golden necklace. Its coinage showed a pirate skull._

_The young woman restrained a shiver. _

Why all these lies, Bill ... if you want your son to become a pirate?

_"Nice gift ..." She gave it back to the boy._

_Impressed by the mystical engraving, Will gazed in awe at his birthday present. Though the coin laid on his palm coolish and glittering, he felt a prickle in his skin as if it was glowing. He put the necklace on, then smiled amused._

_"Ho! It's too long!"_

_The necklet dangled waist-high in front of his chest, and the scene made his mother laugh._

_"Well, you can hang it up over your bed", she smiled, "until you're grown bigger to wear it."_

_In response, Will put forth his hand. "Can I have hammer'n'nails?"_

_"May I have!" she corrected him. "Yes, but I will help you."_

_A few minutes later, they both stood in Will's room. Watching his mother driving a nail into the wall above his bed, the boy fiddled about his medaillon._

PING!

_Unawares the coin jingled against the bedpost. But the sound didn't fade away - the clangour was changing into a melody. A tune, so eerie and beautiful, that Will felt chilly from tip to toe._

_In bewilderment he looked to his mother. After a gasp, she gave him a nervous smile._

_"What -"_

_"You must be careful, darling", Sarah told him off, shaking the head. "This piece of jewelry is very unique, you know!"_

Didn't she hear it?!

Then, why she gasped?

_"I'm sorry, Mummy." Will smiled apologetic. "I will take care henceforth!"_

_He was sure, she did notice the song as well. But he did'nt have the guts to make mention of what he heard._

_On this evening, the son of Bootstrap Bill Turner lay in bed, humming a melody. A special gift of his father, he embosomed in his heart._


End file.
